i don't care if you keel over in a corner. just fuck off and die.
really, here i am, my head is spinning from a grand total of 4hrs of sleep last night, working with the biggest cockhead in recent history, and currently cracking my head over stupid looking gel photos (that effectively look like a black patch to me) and trying to come up with something intelligent about it. i don't need you bugging me to lend you my bag. and then turning around and cursing me when i say no, cos i want to use my bag. and in your fucked up warped universe, my wanting to use my bag must be a big fat offence. completely illogical.
